How to Save Galaxies and Annoy Siblings
by WateryMind
Summary: Hannah Shepard gave birth to twins. The galaxy trembled in horror. "This is a truly awful plan that will surely end in our deaths." "And?" "Sure, why not? I'm bored."
1. The Illusive Dick's Plan Is Rubbish

Magenta Shepard was having a real shit day. First off, there was the whole 'you've been dead for two years' thing. That probably made everything afterwards a little bit small in comparison, but Magenta Shepard was good at a few things, with being a broody bitch being near the top.

Then, there was the thing with the mechs and the attempted murder and the _actual_ murder. She felt her eye twitch at that thought. Who the fuck did Miranda think she was, Queen Bitch of the Galaxy? _Fuck. That. That's my title._ And then she went and dragged up memories of the whole Saren Clusterfuck as if it happened yesterday. Which, to Magenta, it basically _did._

And then there was the Illusive Man. Sweet mother of Christ, Magenta just wanted to shoot him. She had been to Cerberus bases during the Saren Shitstorm, and none of them were any fun. The only time anything good came out of those was when she found that data on what exactly those Dragon's Teeth things did to people. Predictably, Cerberus found that out through actually shoving people onto them.

And then there was Freedom's Progress. Cause that place wasn't an entire world of creepy. A colony that size doesn't just fucking vanish without anyone noticing _something._ Luckily, someone did. Magenta hoped that Veetor got some serious help back at the Migrant Fleet. Still, she was slightly miffed that Tali didn't come with her. Lord knows she missed her little sister analog.

So, all in all, a fairly shit day. The only positive thing about it was, at some point, it had to end. Which it was getting fairly close to. And as she listened to the Illusive Man's 'offer', her arms folded in her typically standoffish manner, Magenta Shepard blew a stray strand of dark red hair from her eyes, before wincing at the spike of pain from her imparts. She really needed to get that fixed.

"… Go to Omega. Find Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant Salarian scientist, and our intelligence suggest he may be able to come up with a way to counter the Collector's seeker swarms." Magenta huffed, before unfolding her arms and pushing her hair from her face, her Tech Armor pulsing in time with the movement.

"Sure, why not? Second thing?" The Illusive Man's face shifted ever-so-slightly, and Magenta wondered if he was internally smirking.

"I've found a pilot I think you might like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust." And as the QEC feed was cut, Magenta heard footsteps, and then a familiar voice.

"Hey Commander. Just like old times, huh?" Holy shit it was Joker. And was he _walking? Wow, I have been gone two years._ And as the pilot she trusted more then any other lead her to a new part of the station, explaining what had happened, Magenta caught sight of a man standing at a window, staring out at it. As she approached, massive lights came to life, illuminating a massive, but _familiar,_ shape.

"… They only told me last night." The man beside then snorted, and Magenta frozen at the familiar sound. _O_ _h no fucking way, not you too…_

"I've known for two months. Then again, my last name tends to have a bit of weight around here." And then the man turned to face them and oh god it's him. Same brown eyes, same face. The same as hers. The smirk was a little smaller, and there were new scars, and he desperately needed a haircut and shave, and his armor was most definitely not Alliance spec. Or Cerberus, for that matter. But it was _him._

"Well, I suppose it's good to be back, hmm?" Markus Shepard asked, his eyes sparkling with emotion. Magenta nodded dumbly, not quite knowing how to word the phase I'm sorry for dying in front of you strongly enough. But then the smirk shifted into a small, happy smile, and tears welled up and _oh god now she was going to cry._

"Hey, Markus."

"Sup sis."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, yes, this is Watery. I will be diving into something other then the Dragon Age Trash Can this evening. This time, it's Mass Effect being grasped in my trashy appendages. I may or may not continue this story at some point, if the "kind" folk here will it.**

 **For reference, this story runs on my own personal storyline. That is, in ME1, there was no romance, Wrex lived to "Shepard" another day, the Rachni Queen did not meet the business end of a flamethrower, for some fucking reason the Council got saved, Saren got talked to death the first time, and I have never played Bring Down the Sky so FUCK IT.**


	2. PTSD Is Still a Thing In Space

_**A/N: This is your warning. Stuff gets a little... Triggery... About half way through. Once again, you have been warned.**_

* * *

Miranda's perfect, sculpted jaw was looking more and more punch-able the more words fell out of it, Magenta concluded. They had been on-board the SR2 for all of 5 seconds before the wannabe Queen Bitch had decided that she was second in command, and started verbally vomiting 'suggestions' about what to do next. Even worse, the ships AI agreed with her. The only reason that there wasn't a AI core currently drifting in the vacuum of space was that Magenta was just too damn tired to give a damn.

"Miranda. Shut up." The words fell out of her mouth before she thought about them, and then she did think about them and didn't give a flying fuck. Miranda, for her part, spluttered, obviously not used to being so bluntly shot down.

"Buh- What, Shepard?" she managed to piece together. And then, to Magenta's immeasurable relief, her personal guardian angel stepped in before she said anything else.

"She's tired, Miranda. Not to mention probably still coming to grips with the whole 'coming back from the dead' thing. Just, find your posts and leave her alone for the evening," Markus said, somehow managing to be both reasonable and sarcastic in the same sentence. As the Bitch and Jacob, bless his already loyal soul, left the CIC, Magenta sighed deeply and rubbed her forehead.

"Thank you," she murmured. Markus nodded, a crooked smile crawling onto his face. He patted her back gently, before leaning on the railing beside her.

"Well, we have an impossible mission, a ship full of spying equipment, crewed by people that are most likely reporting our every word to their boss, and a list of people that may or may not try to kill us before they'll come aboard." He paused for a moment, before dusting his hands off and smirking. "So an average work week for us. Omega?" Magenta nodded.

"Omega. Got three dossiers that point there. Go there, get intel, make decisions as we go." Markus snorted.

"So, in other words, we'll make it up as we go?" he said, laughter in his eyes. Magenta chuckled, before running a hand through her hair. _God, I need a shower._

"Yeap, pretty much."

* * *

The feeling of hot water running down her back should have been more comforting. She always loved steaming hot showers, ever since she was a child. Now, however... All she felt was the water running along the grooves and cracks in her skin, the stabs of pain reminding her of what she was.

 _"Shepard, NO!" "MAGENTA!" And then she was floating. The silence was all-consuming. All there was was the sound of her breathing and the hiss of cracks in her armor and oh god I can't breathe everything burns help me markus why me why..._

Magenta screamed and lashed out with a fist, smashing it into the wall, cracking the tiling and denting the steel underneath. Eyes wide, chest heaving as her breathing became erratic, she fumbled for the water controls. Stumbling from the wet shower, she wiped her hand across the mirror and stared at her reflection. _What is this? I'm not human. I'm not ME!_ Staring at the image in front of her, the glowing cracks in her skin, the faint orange ting to her blue eyes, she couldn't think, couldn't even comprehend, what had happened to her. _I... I died. And then I came back. And that... That..._ A horrific heaving feeling came from her stomach, and Magenta dashed for the toilet, before emptying her stomach into it. And as the heaving faded, her stomach well and truly empty, Magenta Shepard started to sob. _I died. I left them behind. And now here I am. How can I face them?_

"Magenta! You alright?" Markus' voice came from the door. _Of course he would come. He always knows..._

"Commander Shepard, shall I open the door?" And there was the reminder that the Illusive Man probably had her breakdown on tape, ready for him to enjoy alongside a glass of whatever he drinks. _I REALLY am going to shoot him._

"Y... Yes, EDI. Let him in." There was the sound of the doors sliding open, rushing feet, and then the bathroom door was shoved open. In seconds, Markus had her on her feet, wrapped in the largest towel he could find.

"Oh 'Genta... You're a goddamn mess, aren't you?" he said softly, leading her to her bed. A strangled sob and a nod was his answer. Gently guiding her down, Markus then sat beside her and hugged her close, his newly trimmed goatee rasping against her forehead. She sobbed once more, a hand grabbing his shoulder to anchor her, to remind her that he was _there_ and _real_.

"Yeah... I am... Jesus fucking Christ, I _died_. You don't simply get up from that as if nothing happened!" she said, shocked at how harsh the words sounded. Having known her literally his entire life, Markus ignored the tone and instead took the message.

"I know. Well, I don't. But I get what you're saying." Sighing, he then pushed her back slightly, so he could look her in the eye. _The same. Our eyes are the same. Mum always said we have our father's eyes..._ "I'm here. I'll stay as long as I have to. You my fucking sister, 'Genta. More then that, you're my twin. And I've only got one of those, and I really don't want to lose it again." And there it was, that damn way of his. Making her smile, no matter what.

"Stay here? Just for tonight. I... I probably won't be sleeping, anyway." A deep, shuddering breathing, and her smile grew. "And I could use the company, Mark." He nodded, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

Then again, it probably was.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_ Not exactly the most fun thing I've ever written, but whatever. Now, as some of my regulars (all two of you) may have noticed, these chapters are a little shorter then my usual drivel. I';m trying out a somewhat different update style this time round; Namely, crank out a few hundred words whenever I can, and upload when I feel I've reached a good stopping point. **

**And yes, I am protesting some of the story elements in ME2. _ONE DOES NOT COME BACK FROM THE DEAD WITHOUT SOME SORT OF TRAUMA._**


	3. Batarians Are Acceptable Targets

"Omega. What. A. Pisshole." For the first, and hopefully last, time, Magenta was forced to agree with Miranda. The place stank, there were stains of nearly every color imaginable on every surface ( _including the ceiling? HOW._ ) and the entire place had an aura of despair and hopelessness.

Therefore, it was the perfect place to recruit for an impossible mission. _Desperate people are less likely to ask about the details._

"Hey. I'll have you know that it's a perfectly fine place to live, once you get past the hourly shootouts and the fact that personal shields are a must." Pulling at a piece of his ramshackle armor, Markus then nodded at the approaching Batarian. "I'll deal with him. You go deal with Zaeed." Nodding, Magenta watched as Markus moved forward to intercept the Batarian, before stepping past and, ignoring the complaints from the alien as she moved past him, approached the human currently terrorizing some poor soul.

"Zaeed Massani?" The bounty hunter turned to face Magenta, and she had to bite back a whistle. _Man's almost as fucked up as I am._

"Shepard. Shit, you look almost as bad as I do." And suddenly Magenta was fighting another, much more violent urge. A pleading groan caught her attention, and the bloodied Batarian at Zaeed's feet make an attempt to scramble behind her. Ignoring Miranda's noise of disgust and Jacob's obvious disdain for the situation in general, Magenta employed one of the many life lessons her mother had taught her. Namely, she kicked the Batarian square in the chest and sent him sprawling.

Magenta Shepard did inherit her mothers mean streak, after all.

"You should probably keep a better eye on him. Or cripple him. Either way works," Magenta commented as Zaeed gave the Batarian a swift boot to the head for his trouble. Barking with laughter in response, Zaeed gave Magenta a twisted grin that made her insides roil in disgust.

"Oh I think we'll get on fine, Commander."

* * *

"I look away for 30 seconds and you're best friends with Zaeed Fucking Massani. Almighty above, I'm buying you a leash." Magenta snorted at her twins mixture of admiration and horror, before flicking her hair back with a hand in a showy fashion as she lead their small party up the stairs to Afterlife. _Pretty sure my trip to the afterlife involved an express elevator straight down._

"What can I say? We're charming people." Markus groaned and pinched his nose.

"I know this. It scares me. Just promise me you won't pull that shit with Aria. She already wants to kill me."

"Wait what? Why?"  
"Ask me later. _IF_ we survive." At this moment, the twins walked past a small gathering of Batarians. The lead Batarian stood and made to pull out a weapon, only for an M-3 Predator and M-23 Katana to suddenly and violently crowd his personal space.

"By all means, try us," the twins said, a confident smirk gracing their features.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi. Not dead. Magenta is Sentinel and Markus is a Vanguard, in case the weapons mentioned were a bit confusing. Also, I'm playing fast and loose with the canon and script here.


	4. Plane of Existence After This One

"So _both_ of our persons of interest are very, very fucked." Aria nodded to the female Shepard, a small smirk gracing her Asari features. Magenta sighed and kneaded her forehead with the palm of her hand, her expression one of a person already over life in general. _Perhaps leaving Jacob and Miranda at the bar was a poor decision. The cheerleader would have made a good distraction if I kneecapped her._

"Still. They're not dead. Yet," Markus said from his seat to Magenta's left, his hands folded together and shielding his jaw from view. Aria sighed, before somehow managing to look down at the Shepards at the same time without shifting from her lounging position.

"If I might make a suggestion. Archangel is in the bigger pile of shit at the moment. And him disappearing, one way or another, stops that particular war and means I can focus on the three other gang wars that have broken out this month," the Asari said, her tone making it abundantly clear the Shepards time with her was over. Nodding, Magenta got to her feet, hiding the spike of pain that shot up her left leg as she put weight on it. _Fucking implants…_

"Thanks for the hint. Lets go rescue us an Archangel," she said as Markus got to his feet with a spring in his step. Aria waved her off, her focus already elsewhere.

"Just as long as you get the job done, Shepard. But you're good at that, aren't you?" And as the twins turned away, Aria spoke one last time. "Oh, and Markus. You still owe me." Groaning, Markus nodded and waved, before taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to escape Aria's gaze.

* * *

"What did you do?" Magenta asked, as the twins waited to be admitted to the "Murder Archangel" sign up area. Markus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"I lived here for a few months before Cerberus picked me up. Ran some jobs, killed some people. Normal merc shit. Long story short, my last job before Miranda dragged me outta here was for Aria. I fucked up, people died, expensive shit exploded. I feel like Mr. L. Lusive Mann paid her a shitload of credits for her to _not_ immediately explode my head upon my return." Markus then spared a glance to the raised platform from where the Queen of Omega ruled, and shuddered. "I believe she still wants to kill me."

"Yeah, well, if she did, I would fucking end her." The air around the twins chilled as Magenta spoke, and she fixed her gaze at the poor henchman within airshot. The Batarian tightened his grip on his shotgun.

Magenta gave him the glare she normally reserved for Reapers, Saren and Udina.

The Batarian visibly shrank, before promptly finding himself an Eclipse thug to beat down for starting imaginary trouble. Smiling to herself, Magenta returned her gaze to her twin, and found herself staring at a very confused, and very afraid, man.

"What?" Markus swallowed, before shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of all the _nope_ running through his mind.

"Nothing. Just, forgot how utterly terrifying you are." Magenta gave a pleased hum in response, before the doors slid out and the shout of "Next" echoed out over the thumping music and violence cocktail of drugs and criminals.

As the pair moved forward, Markus suddenly stopped and stuck his hand out. A moment later, a rather agitated youth collided with said hand. _Oh lord, he's barely 18._

"Hey man, what the hell?" the youth complained. Ignoring him, Markus spun him around and wrenched an M-3 from the boy's waistband.

"No shields. No armor." A thump and a tug and a red-hot thermal chip popped out of the pistol fast enough to set off kinetic barriers. "And a pistol that'll explode in your hands the second you pull the trigger." Markus then spun the boy again and shoved him against the wall, before pinning him there with the weight of his glare.

"There are easier ways of committing suicide. Go home, _boy_. Before a Vorcha decides they want to find out what human tastes like." The boy stammered for a few seconds, before pushing away from the wall and sprinting out of the club fast enough to leave a dust cloud. A few moments passed in silence, before Markus sighed, the anger leaving his frame replaced with the weariness of an old soldier.

"Now that you're done screwing us out of new blood, are you here to sign up or not?" The Batarian at the desk said in that uniquely Batarian tone that somehow merged arrogance, tiredness and condescension. Magenta snorted and grinned.

"What if I told you we're both signing up, and we've got two very well trained friends in tow?" she said, her voice oozing confidence and power. The recruiter perked up, and gave the Batarian approximation of a smirk.

"Then you're my new best friend."

* * *

 **A/N: I do these in bold, don't I? Anyway, _zomgtwochaptersintwodays._ Don't get used to it, at this point I'm just playing catchup to my ME2 save. Eventually I have to play that game again. **

**Also, I forgot a disclaimer anywhere in this fic, so here. Bioware and EA own everything here that isn't a bad joke.**


	5. SPACE DINOSAUR BOYFRIEND

Garrus Vakarian was neck deep in the shittiest situation this side of the Battle of the Citadel. At least during that horror show, he had been running with a human that he was certain had been a Krogan in a previous life, her monumentally talented biotic of a brother, and an actual, and angry, Krogan. Lining up some poor sap who didn't have a clue how fucked he was, Garrus took a breathe and pulled the trigger. His rifle kicked, the dumb bastard wearing Eclipse colors dropped like a sack of bricks, he actioned his rifles bolt and ducked as the expected return fire pounded against the face of Casa de Vakarian.

Sighing, Garrus looked at the chronometer on his helmets HUD. _3 days without sleep. These guys won't let up._ A quick glance informed him that his supply of thermal clips, although impressive, was very rapidly draining. Noting the lack of impact noise against his hiding hole, Garrus popped back up and looked down his scope. _Damn. More rabble coming in._ He watched as the aircar landed, then lined up a shot on the opening doors.

And then his entire body froze.

"Shepard." The whispered name brought with it a flood of memories, good and bad.

 _A biotic throw pasting a thug in the clinic. The roar of a shotgun and the weight of another standing back to back with him. A scream full of pain and helplessness as nuclear fire burnt Sarens unborn army to dust. A hand dragging him to his feet, a face smeared with blood and ash telling him to move as the Citadel Tower came crumbling down._

Shaking his head, Garrus dragged himself back to the present. The present, where Magenta Shepard was stepping out of an aircar, her brother ( _Garrus_ ' _best friend)_ beside her. The present, where he was staring at them from behind a sniper scope as they approached a Blue Suns mook, a woman who seemed too perfect and a man whose face Garrus knew, but couldn't place behind them. Sighing, Garrus closed his eyes, and asked himself.

" _What would Shepard do?_ "

Smirking to himself, Garrus shouldered his rifle, aimed, and took the shot.

* * *

The Blue Suns' head exploded, a shower of blood and gore spattering Magenta and Markus. Swearing, Markus staggered backwards as the air around him shimmered, the telltale glow of a biotic barrier surrounding him. In the same moment, Magenta pivoted to the left, her form glowing blue as she deployed her Tech Armor. As she moved, a second shot tore through the air she once inhabited, smashing in the aircar behind her.

"Hell of a welcome,"Markus commented as he dive-rolled to cover.

"If I didn't know any better, Shepard, I'd say that sniper was gunning for you alone," Zaeed shouted from his position behind the aircar.

"Well, he can get in fucking line. Right behind the Reapers, Collectors, and these poor bastards that we're gonna be shooting at in 15 minutes," Magenta replied with a small, determined smirk on her face.

* * *

 **A/N: SPACE DINOSAUR BOYFRIEND HAS ARRIVED.**


	6. Unspeakable Violence Ensues

"Well shit, it _was_ 15 minutes," Markus remarked as Magenta pumped three rounds from her M-3 into the back of the nearest thug. The Twins, Miranda and Zaeed had maintained the illusion of being suspiciously well equipped mercenaries long enough to get across the bridge separating Casa de Archangel, and out of the firing line of said mercenary, before Magenta figuratively threw her hands up in the air, said "fuck it", and started shooting people.

"Less comments, more killing!" Magenta shouted in reply, before waving a glowing hand at the nearest mercenary/ hired thug. Said hand wave translated to the poor Salarian being enveloped by a purple glow, followed by a high-pitched scream and a sickening _CRACK_ as the slender alien was flung at a concrete pillar with enough force to fold him in half. Wincing at the sound, Markus then popped out of his chosen piece of waist-high architecture shotgun first and set about introducing himself through the language he spoke best:

Raw, unrelenting violence.

* * *

Between the angry Commander venting a few days worth of frustration and anger via biotic throws, gunfire and the occasional burst of cryogenic freezing, Markus demonstrating the fact that yes, biotics did mean he could punch someone so hard they exploded, Miranda proving that sometimes, looks _could_ kill, and Zaeed somehow causing the same level of carnage and destruction as three angry biotics with only a rifle and swear words, the fight was less a battle and more a series of screams and violent deaths.

Once the last mercenary had stopped screaming, Magenta wiped a hand across her forehead and panted softly, a wave of fatigue hammering her body. _Okay, two years dead did have some effect._

"You okay there, Shepard?" Zaeed asked, nodding at her hand. Looking down at it, she saw that the armor she had wiped across her forehead had been stained red. Jogging over, Markus grabbed her head and, after a few moments tilting it back and forth, poked her on the forehead and grinned.

"Don't worry. Pretty sure that's someone else's blood," he said. Zaeed nodded, then gave the male twin a sidewards look.

"Did I see you explode a man by punching him?" Markus chuckled and nodded as he ejected the thermal clip from his shotgun.

"We can discuss Markus' abuse of the laws of physics later. Right now, we should focus on our objective," Miranda said. Magenta nodded in agreement.

"Cheerleader's right. Up the stairs, let's go." As Zaeed and Markus ascended the stairs, trading the quips and thinly veiled insults peculiar to career soldiers/ mercenaries, Magenta glanced over to Miranda, before sighing.

"Look, I'm sorry for being a bitch." Miranda chuckled, shaking her head as she replaced her M-3's thermal clip.

"It's quite alright, Shepard. I've read your psychological profile, I knew what I was getting into." Hearing the dual shouts of "Clear!" from the second floor, Miranda turned to face Miranda, a small smirk on her perfect face. "Let's put this discussion off until we're not being shot at." Magenta gave a sharp bark of laughter, before activating her omnitool and slapping her chest, her Tech Armor restoring any damage sustained in a flash of blue.

"Fat chance of that ever happening. Let's get this over with."

* * *

"You get the door."

"Ladies first."

"For the love of- I'll do it!" Zaeed's hand slammed into the door controls, cutting the twins off before they could really get into their argument. Rolling his eyes, Markus flowed around the door frame, Zaeed following him a moment later. Following the pair in, Magenta's eyes swept the room, before settling on the figure crouched at one of the windows.

"Archangel?" she asked. The figure, a Turian from the shape of their armor, held up a hand, and Magenta stopped herself from speaking. After a moment, the Turian's rifle roared, and Magenta faintly heard a scream from the other side of the bridge.

"Nice shot," Markus commented. The Turian gave something resembling a shrug, before standing and wandering to a crate leaning against a wall, out of line of sight of the bridge. Leaning his rifle against the wall, the Turian then sat on the crate and reached up to remove his helmet. As the piece of armor came free, Magenta's party all had differing reactions.

Zaeed raised an eyebrow, but otherwise remained nonchalant.

Miranda wore a smug, knowing smirk.

Markus swore his way through German, Russian and French.

And Magenta just _stared._ _He's so tired_ was her first thought. _Oh god above, I missed you_ was her second.

"Been a while, Shepard," Garrus said, a tired smile creeping onto his face.

* * *

 **A/N: YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD AUTHOR, BUT IT WAS ME, WATERY!**

 **Markus' unique ability is something I'm currently calling Biotic Impact. Basically, he punches a biotic field into his targets body, then expands the field rapidly. You can probably guess the results. Think Shadow Strike, but less stealthy and more explodey.**


	7. Brief Respite

"Okay first of all; YOU FUCKING SHOT AT US!" Magenta snapped back to reality at the sound of her brothers voice. Said voice was laced with anger and serious confusion. "And secondly, the fuck Garrus? You _knew_ I came here after getting my ass discharged, why the hell didn't you try to find me?" Garrus had enough sense to look mildly concerned at Markus' rage-fuelled outburst, before sighing.

"Concussive rounds only, aside from the one that took out the guy in front of you." Getting to his feet, Garrus then wandered over to the window overlooking the bridge approach, and leaned beside it, casting his gaze out over the angry anthill that was the mercenary position. Groaning, Markus ran a hand through his hair in a rather distressed manner, before stepping over to the Turian.

"I take it you know him, Shepard," Zaeed asked lowly. Magenta knead her hand against her forehead for a moment, before nodding.

"Ran with us during the Saren Shitshow. Kept me and my brother from killing each other on more then one occasion." Zaeed snorted, and Magenta gave him a crooked grin. "We had differing opinions on how to do things. He wanted to do everything carefully, keep it clean."

"And you?" Zaeed offered, a curious look on his face. Magenta looked away, a dark look crossing her face for an instant.

"I… Didn't."

* * *

Markus stared out over the bridge, his arms folded and his fingers tapping against his biceps. Beside him, Garrus fiddled with his rifle, before he absent-mindedly aimed it out the window.

"Two years, Garrus. You fell off the grid even faster then I did." Sighing, Markus looked out of the corner of his eye at the Turian, his expression flat. "What happened?"

"Bureaucracy happened, Markus. After working with you, your sister… I couldn't handle the red tape any longer. Not when it was stopping me from doing my job," the Turian sniper replied, adjusting his sight slightly.

"And your job is picking a fight with every single merc and hired gun in the Terminus, at the same damn time?" Markus shot back, a small smirk appearing on his face. Garrus chuckled, his own face shifting in the Turian version of a smile.

"No. Obviously that's your job." A pause, before Garrus turned to face Markus. "It's good to see you. See you both." Markus followed Garrus' gaze to see Magenta approaching.

"Yes, I was dead. Yes, I was brought back. No, that does not make me the messiah or some shit. How's life, Garrus?" Magenta asked, a small smile on her face.

"Ahh. How I missed your unrelenting flow of sarcasm, Shepard. Seems like you're the one following me into the fire, this time," Garrus replied. Magenta snorted, before walking over to the window and glaring out it. Markus and Garrus both recognized the look she was currently giving the mercenaries a few hundred meters away.

The last time she had worn it, a Reaper had died.

"And I'm dragging your ass out." Yanking Garrus' rifle from his hands, Magenta then fired 3 shots. Across the bridge, three of the unfolding LOKI mechs exploded as high velocity slugs ripped through their power cores. Receiving his rifle back, Garrus looked down the scope.

"Mechs. Guess they got sick of the hired help," he said. Markus' and Magenta's gazes met for a moment, and both nodded.

"Zaeed, you're up here with Garrus. Snipe as many as you can, we'll get the rest," Magenta said, thumping her chest and reactivating her Tech Armor. The aged mercenary nodded, pulling his rifle from his back. The Twins made for the door, and as Markus and Miranda hurried out it, Magenta paused.

"Garrus." The Turian turned to look at the Human, her hair hiding her eyes from view. "Stay safe." And as she turned to leave the room, her Predator in hand, she heard Garrus' voice follow her.

"You too, Magenta."

* * *

 **A/N: Sup. Works been hectic, I've been tired, usual shit. Never work in retail, kiddos.**

 **Anyway, have a short one that I am immensely dissatisfied with, but am putting out anyway. Next chapter's probably gonna be the last for Garrus' recruitment, and a bit of a long one.**


End file.
